


unrealised lovers (or, alternatively, Kyungsoo Has Two Hands)

by finedae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday Party, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Poly, Slice of Life, horny but emotionally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23811109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finedae/pseuds/finedae
Summary: “What are we doing?” Kyungsoo finally asks. He looks down at where his leg rests against Chanyeol’s, and Baekhyun had taken Kyungsoo’s hand and rested it on his knee, sliding Kyungsoo’s fingers under the knee hole of his jeans, tearing the threads at the seams further.“We’re ignoring everyone at the party by sneaking away here.” Chanyeol responds, helpfully. By their sides, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s fingers are still interlocked together, hidden from sight in the relative darkness.“We’re vibing,” Baekhyun offers, unhelpfully. “Cuddling, even.”Sehun throws Jongin and Kyungsoo a surprise party. The only thing Kyungsoo's surprised by is the lengths he'll go to avoid everyone. Well, every good rule should have exceptions. Two, even.OR,Kyungsoo spends most of his birthday reflecting on life, morality, and what it all means. He's also wearing a birthday hat with bear ears attached.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Byun Baekhyun/Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 25
Kudos: 184





	unrealised lovers (or, alternatively, Kyungsoo Has Two Hands)

**Author's Note:**

> god.......
> 
> GOD....... i cannot believe i finished this. this came to me as a fanart concept 4 months ago or whatever time is, and somehow it is now 12k... this idea has Haunted me for months and it's finally out. writing this was incredible ups and downs for me. i have poured a lot of heart into it, and i hope it shows.
> 
> pat, my lovely, thank you for encouraging me and keeping me going and for all our sprint runs without which i might have never touched this again.
> 
> xia, i love you. this fic wouldn't exist without you.
> 
> the bracketed part of my title is what it was called in my google docs.
> 
> disclaimer; there are mentions to addiction recovery and vague allusions to depression, in case that's something you need to keep in mind!
> 
> inspired by zico's Any Song and Do Kyungsoo's That's Okay.
> 
> i can't wait for you to read this.

As soon as Kyungsoo walks in the door, an armful of his roommate Kim Jongdae barrels him into a hug. “You should’ve told us!”

The _‘we’re not that close’_ response dies down as he is currently heartbeat to heartbeat with the man, who is very passionate in his hug. He lets go, beaming, and Kyungsoo is left standing awkwardly, unsure what it is that he was supposed to inform them of.

It is strange enough his roommate was waiting for him in Sehun and Jongin’s shared apartment, but stranger still is the sight of their neighbours; long suffering grad students Kim Minseok and Kim Junmyeon. The air of suspicion increases as Jongdae manhandles Kyungsoo to the couch, squeezing him in between Minseok and Junmyeon.

“Sehun called over you guys too? What’s going on?” Kyungsoo asks, confused, eyes darting over them trying to piece it together.

“No, no, we’re just over for the big game.” Minseok explains, pointing to the TV which currently had a baseball match on, Lotte Giants vs Doosan Bears. Except it was the match highlight from last night’s game. To further deepen the point, Minseok is wearing an FC Chelsea jersey, a sport he has talked everyone’s ears off over.

“Sehunnie just popped out for a bit, he’ll be back soon. It’s been a while, Kyungsoo-ya, we missed you.” Junmyeon places a hand on Kyungsoo’s knee patting it effectively trapping him in his spot, his delivery too smooth and practiced with an easy going smile. Kyungsoo may be stupid, but he’s not an idiot. He remembers Sehun’s whining insistence on meeting up today specifically, and can put two and two together, however he doesn’t particularly mind the company and can extend being cordial til the youngest shows up. “Missed you too, hyung. How’s teaching the undergrads going?” He prompts gently as Junmyeon makes a face and Minseok laughs humourlessly.

Junmyeon launches into a tirade of his terrible work life balance, with Minseok nodding in between interjections. Jongdae disappears behind the couch, which is the unofficial divide between the living room and kitchen, and comes back with an obnoxiously large bag of colourful marshmallows. He does this in rotation until each of them are holding a different oversized snack of seaweed chips, popcorn, and Jongdae himself with a 2 litre bottle of Coca-Cola. It’s kind of overkill for 4 people only, and the unsubtle way all of it seemed to somehow end up on Kyungsoo’s lap, like offerings to a benevolent Joseon era prince.

It’s going fairly well, Kyungsoo isn’t even itching to get away as the conversation flows and the pretense of watching the game washes on as background noise. That is, of course, until the final Kim brother bursts in, clearly out of breath and not empty handed. “Kyungsoo hyung! You’re here already?” Jongin asked, voice high, through the fur hood of his parka, “But Sehun told me the party is at 9!”

In retrospect, it is many layers of hilarious how everyone froze. As if in slow motion, he could see Junmyeon shaking his head, Minseok’s eyes widening, Jongdae’s one hand increasing its grip on Kyungsoo’s shoulder and the other pausing mid reaching for the popcorn. To add insult to injury, behind Jongin at the foot of the door, Kims: Moonkyu and Wonshik stumble in — each holding colourful plastic bags with conical hats poking out of top, Red solo cups, an assortment of balloons. Most incriminatingly, Jongin held a banner slung over his shoulder reading, _‘Happy Birthday J &K!’_

Kyungsoo has never called someone faster in his life, watching Junmyeon and Minseok getting up to help the guests — well, it is Jongin’s apartment too — and Jongdae taking their place with an iron vice grip on his arm now, apologetic smile.

“Oh Sehun, are you throwing me a _joint_ birthday party?”

* * *

Sehun is a veteran and knows how to deflect whatever is the opposite of baseless accusations by changing the subject. “Seems like you’re more mad about sharing the spotlight than the party itself. Interesting.” Kyungsoo has never wanted to smack a voice more in his life.

“You know how I feel about parties.” Kyungsoo replies coolly. Jongdae reassuringly patted his arm. They really weren’t that close but Kyungsoo could use the comfort after being stabbed in the back. However, he couldn’t help but be endeared at the sight of Jongin, Moonkyu, and Wonshik wearing matching bear hoodies -- two of them lopsidedly holding up the banner while the third inspects the position, not one eye for perspective between the three of them. “As in, I don’t want one for my birthday.”

“Okay, no, you said you didn’t want one at your place cause clean up’s a bitch, and you didn’t wanna go anywhere cause then we’d carpool and finding parking’s also a…” Sehun trails off.

“A bitch?” Kyungsoo finishes, trying to speed this along. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Moonkyu just throwing rainbow streamers across the floor. He was pretty sure those are supposed to end up there when the party’s in full swing, not start from the bottom. He does not envy whoever has to be the one picking it up the next morning.

“Wow, misogynistic language much, hyung?” Sehun tuts, his mischievous smirk in full bloom no doubt. “So that’s why it’s perfect — here, you don’t have to worry about cleaning up or moving beyond an elevator ride.” Sehun finishes winningly.

“You’re forgetting the part where I—“

“Yes, you hate being the centre of attention, I know, I know. And that’s why I’m only inviting Jongin’s friends.”

“I know Jongin’s friends.” Kyungsoo answers warily.

“Hyung, that’s your personal problem for being popular.”

The man himself is currently putting round glittery ornaments on the various potted plants, and flower garlands and fairy lights on the wall. Junmyeon asks if they’re Christmas ornaments and Jongin beams, bragging about what a good deal he got. Jongdae rubs circles on Kyungsoo’s back.

“Then why not just make it Jongin’s birthday?” Kyungsoo really didn’t see why he had to be involved in this.

“Because I’m throwing you the perfect party. One where you don’t have to do shit or interact with anyone, and it’s all _for you._ Hyung, if you think about it, it’s very Gatsby-ian of me,” Sehun wears confidence like a second skin. Kyungsoo’s honestly kind of impressed that he knows the reference. “I watched the movie last week. Leo DiCap throws a bunch of awesome parties for Daisy noona, then they fall in love and live happily ever after. I didn’t finish it.”

Beside him, Jongdae snickers. Wonshik is presently putting on different birthday hats on Minseok, who looks way more adorable than any self respecting 28 year old PhD candidate should.

“Sehunnie—“

“Please stay, hyung, please. It would mean so much to me. Listen, I’m on my way, just stay till then and if you don’t like it, you can leave.” Sehun’s voice goes soft at the end. Knowing when to give is the most important part of winning. Kyungsoo would like to say he held his own pretty well to his favourite dongsaeng begging the unreasonable favour of hanging out with people he generally likes for a little bit. He crumbles instantly.

“Bring alcohol. Minseok hyung finished the 6 pack.”

* * *

Sehun shows up with enough alcohol to start his own bar. He’s also in a blazer, lifting the dress code from furry chic to business casual. He immediately goes to mixing a fruity cocktail, after handing off a particularly expensive looking whiskey bottle to a delighted Kim Minseok.

“Oh, look at the time. It’s getting late.” Minseok exclaimed unconvincingly after incriminatingly completing their barter. It was 9:45 PM.

“You’re not staying?” Kyungsoo does not pout or look disappointed because he is not a child. A few people had arrived, some undergrads and third years Kyungsoo recognised.

“Baby… I have no intention of drinking with my 8AM class.” Minseok pats his head sadly.

“He only wants to drink with his advisor. He’s only here because Changmin hyung’s on a date.” Junmyeon rolls his eyes.

“Some of us don’t avoid our advisers like they’re a debt collector.” Minseok bites back and Junmyeon splutters something about revision and reading. “We haven’t left the house in a month, Sehun suggested we keep you company for a bit.”

Kyungsoo glares at Sehun, who finished making the drink and told the guests who had formed a line to serve themselves. “Happy birthday, Kyungsoo-ya. We only got to know last minute so…” Junmyeon slid an envelope to Kyungsoo’s hands discreetly, hugging him in the process.

Already forgiven, Kyungsoo can guess the amount from the thickness of the envelope. “You can’t buy my love with money.” He states evenly.

As the older Kim brothers leave, Sehun pounces on Kyungsoo — two drinks in hand. He hands Kyungsoo the sweet, fruity drink complete with a fancy straw and little umbrella and drinks his own vodka without a chaser. “You have fallen for my nefarious plan.” He pokes a long finger at Kyungsoo’s double layered, reasonably dressed shirt and jacket. Kyungsoo takes a sip; say what you will about Oh Sehun, and most people do, the boy can make a mean drink.

Sehun launches into a monologue about how Jongin found through Facebook that both their birthdays are so close and threw a fit about how not knowing this information before meant Kyungsoo hates him, prompting Sehun to plan a party like the socialite he is. Kyungsoo zones out, watching Sehun’s face contorting and the buzz of more people entering. _This isn’t the big reveal of a heist movie,_ he thought, it sounded more like luck that the 11th fell on the precipice of the weekend and the day finals ended for the juniors. Then Sehun asked Kyungsoo to hang out, clearing his schedule, and having the hyungs babysit him until he could be ambushed with a birthday party. Hardly needed the ROK’s best minds to pull off such a covert psy-op.

“You know, I can still go downstairs.” Kyungsoo mentions, pulling Sehun’s cheek. He can feel the physical pinprick of eyes noticing how their host is completely ignoring his hosting duties.

Sehun’s smile widens, the easy going one he’s had this whole time. “Yes, but you won’t, my lovely hyung.” He points at the glass door to the balcony, on the other side where Jongdae is on a phone call. “That’s your birthday present.”

Kyungsoo snorts. “No, thank you.” Jongdae notices and after hanging up, makes his way towards them, looking uncharacteristically rueful.

“Hyung made a deal. He kept you here til I got back, with force if necessary, and I’ll keep you out of his hair tonight.” Sehun whispers, his breath tickling Kyungsoo’s neck, who swats at him. He’s about to reply _no, he didn’t._ But then he remembered all the shoulder massages that evening — _oh_ — Kyungsoo thought they had been bonding.

“Why would he…” The question dies as Jongdae begins, “Kyungsoo-ya, I’m sorry. Sehun told me to hold you down.” He truly did sound apologetic, the upturned corner of his lips shouldn’t be so downcast.

“Why?”

“For the drama. That’s not the point.” Sehun interrupts, waving a hand to urge Jongdae along. He doesn’t even look back when an audible crash of glass, and _‘sorry!’_ from a distinct Jongin came.

“It’s Jieun-ie. Her flight landed early and we really wanted to meet. Then Sehun mentioned it’s your birthday and offered to host a party.” Jongdae rubs his neck awkwardly, looking at Kyungsoo with pleading, understanding eyes. “We’d go to her place, but her brother just moved in…”

Jieun, Jongdae’s girlfriend has been on a work trip to Thailand for the past two weeks, and the way Jongdae has been acting you’d… never be able to guess because he’s perfectly pleasant as always. But Kyungsoo sometimes overheard snippets of him singing to her on call, or how his eyes would light up when he’d talk about her — a kind of clinging, contagious joy that came from reciprocity. Plus, she has always been really nice to Kyungsooo when they’ve crossed paths. They’re cute together.

“Really, Jongdae? You could’ve just asked and I’d stay over at someone’s.” Kyungsoo grumbles, mostly annoyed at Sehun winning than anything else. Also why did Sehun know everyone’s personal business around here? What’s up with that?

Jongdae smiles regretfully at that. “I would’ve… but we’re not that close.” _Ouch._ He says that but he’s still standing around, hovering, as if waiting for a verbal confirmation because that asshole has to be a perfectly alright guy too.

“Ugh. Go.” Kyungsoo shoos him, leaning into Sehun’s enveloping arms.

 _“Thanks, you’re the best, we’ll make it up to you!”_ Jongdae literally runs, and Sehun snickers. More people enter, the music feels like it got awfully revved up, and Kyungsoo has the sinking feeling he’s not going to see his bed anytime soon. He finishes his drink all at once.

“Happy birthday, hyung.”

* * *

Upon viewing, Kyungsoo realises while he’s closer in age to these future overworked, alcoholic university graduates, his usual crowd skews far older. Despite being a small fish at the publishing house, Editor Jo Insung adopted Kyungsoo in his group and has successfully blocked all attempts of rival publishing house’s Editor Jo Jungsuk’s attempts of stealing him away. Being the youngest in a scene of the last dregs of twenties to late fourties, he usually spends his birthday at work getting doted on. And Insung hyung, not being of the generation that needs a social media reminder for birthdays usually gets an office cake or takes them out for company dinner.

Sehun disappears from his purview, but almost recognised strangers fill out his space. He’s been ambushed and placed smack middle of a party. Sequins and glitter reflect off the changing disco lights Wonshik had installed, the walls reflecting dots of reds, blues, greens. Everyone’s certainly dressed for a party, the ordinarily loud thuds of heels and boots overed titles flooring camouflaged by the too loud trendy pop songs Kyungsoo hasn’t heard. The humdrum of the music and voices in conversation, apologies for bumping into someone, cloying flirting all meld into one sensory overload. It’s almost nice, disappearing in the middle of a crowd. A stranger’s voice cuts through, “—yeah, a birthday party? For Jongin and uh, Kyung? Kwangsoo? No, it isn’t BYOB—”

Kyungsoo gets a bad rep for hating parties. He doesn’t, he really doesn’t! He is just too fucking sober for this right now.

He mindlessly stumbles through the kitchen with his fruit flavoured soju, retroactively ducking away from anyone about to engage in conversation or ask where the bathroom is. At the back of his mind, he’s aware Chanyeol is somewhere… around. When someone’s booming laughter could be heard over the music, clutching onto someone or collapsing in on himself -- the telltale signs of hanging on to every word of a story, a smile stretched to its end. His presence is like the sun, Kyungsoo doesn’t need to look directly at it to know there’s still light out. It’s familiar. Kyungsoo knows with certainty he’s being looked at by the same pair of attentive eyes he’s intent on avoiding.

Successful in his quest, he walks right into the chest of one Lee Taemin, who doesn’t spill his drink and beams brightly when he sees who it is. He smells like cologne and baby powder, blonde hair coiffed and jean jacket hanging off of him.  
He loops an arm around Kyungsoo, lowers his head close enough to whisper over the music, “Dance?”

It’s more tempting to give in than Kyungsoo would like to admit. Kyungsoo wiggles himself out before he can be roped into making embarrassing life decisions Taemin would gleefully look upon. It’s better to leave those to Jongin.

“Nope. You have a good time though, tell Kibum hyung I said hi.” Taemin does a two finger military salute in acknowledgement, body already moving towards the living room dance floor or where Jongin is, which is both one and the same.

Kyungsoo finds himself a nice spot beside a giant potted plant that covers half his body, and the general darkness of the room leaving him obscured. It has a vantage view, and the solid cool of the wall grounds Kyungsoo while the whole room, lights, and partygoers seem intent on moving in and out of rhythm. He takes his phone out, — notification bar showing texts from Chanyeol from an hour ago — and starts playing Cooking Mama.

The game is engrossing enough that Kyungsoo doesn’t look up as the songs change, the dance floor disperses, Taemin splits his pants open and is dragged to Jongin’s room to get his pants off. He finally does look up when he feels a presence shift beside him. Leaning against the wall and looking like he walked out of an alternative pop punk magazine stands Byun Baekhyun. Kohl rimmed, choker clad, ripped jeans — a stark departure from his usual oversized sweater and lack of styled hair and makeup. Baekhyun notices Kyungsoo’s stare lingering on his choker, and says nothing but takes a sip of his lychee soju — the gulp and bob of his Adam’s apple not helping him look away. Baekhyun still says nothing, quirks a brow at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo appreciates the silence because he is pretty sure his mind went completely blank for a moment, and he’s not sure how long that moment stretched.

“I thought you don’t do parties.” Kyungsoo finally speaks. Baekhyun has to lean closer to hear him. The reputation that Kyungsoo gets is one that Baekhyun actually deserves, it's rare enough for him to leave the house to an impromptu lunch plan and much less an actual party.

“I don’t,” Baekhyun hums, “But Sehun can be… very convincing.” He gives Kyungsoo a very obvious once over, who narrows his eyes at the words. Just how long has Sehun been planning this?

“When’d you get here?”

“Just now. Saw you hiding here, figured we’re playing hide and seek.”

So he arrived at the party and zeroed himself where Kyungsoo was _not_ hiding, instead of socialising with the group or finding Sehun. Interesting. “I’m not hiding.”

“Yeah, that’s right, really sell it. No one can see you if you’re one with the wall. You are more wall than man.”

Kyungsoo swats at his arm lightly. Getting a rise out of him, Baekhyun immediately breaks into a grin.

“You’re so cute, Kyungja.” Baekhyun walks the line between annoyance and charm like a tightrope, and yet he is the only person Kyungsoo hasn’t tried to actively duck away from. They stand shoulder to shoulder — Baekhyun’s an inch taller — in companionable silence, observing the crowd or Baekhyun’s pretty fingers as his shoulders bop to the music. The doorbell rings.

“Do you wanna get o—“ Kyungsoo doesn’t hear the rest of Baekhyun’s question because he is already headed out of the living room.

“Yeah, no worries! I’ll find you!” Baekhyun calls out to the room, saving face in front of drunk undergrads.

Kyungsoo’s suspicion is proven correct when he sees two delivery people standing at the open doorway as Moonkyu and Wonshik check the order. Who else would ring the doorbell at a party where the door’s wide open because the residents of this flat have no regard for general safety? Kyungsoo’s a goddamn detective.

Moonkyu and Wonshik try to wrangle the bill that reaches the ground — one more thing Kyungsoo’s glad he doesn’t have to deal with. He still asks if they need help with the bill and is informed Sehun’s already put it on his card. He assists in carrying a stack of fried chicken, barbecue chicken, and shish kebab while the other two balance the tower of pizza boxes to the living room table. It was surely enough food for everyone, and their unaccounted for plus ones and party crashers. Jongin might end up having chicken leftovers for days, though he wouldn’t mind.

After leading drunken students to food and helping pass the single use paper plates — regardless of it not being his responsibility, no need for a 20 year old getting alcohol poisoning because they overestimated their tolerance on an empty stomach — Kyungsoo grabs a box for himself.

“Stop babysitting, go eat.” Sehun reappears, delicately ripping multiple packets of pepper on his pizza slice. He then delicately took the pepperoni slices off and ate them.

“You should turn the music down before Junmyeon hyung narcs you to the building management.” Kyungsoo hands him an extra pepperoni slice.

“He wouldn’t. Junmyeon hyung loves me.” Sehun responds, self assured. He’s definitely fond of Sehun, and he’s also probably waiting with a decibel counter and finger on the speed dial to the landlord a second past 11:30.

Kyungsoo shrugs, heading out and smirks, noticing when the music thrums quieter to regular human hearing levels.

“Oppa! Here!” Kyungsoo turns to the voice of the wonderful Jung Soojung, one of the few people he does know. She pats the space beside her on the couch, urging the dimpled stranger beside her to scoot.

Kyungsoo goes where he is called, smiling at her as he takes a seat. “It’s been a minute.” Soojung is really cool, and takes the way people view her — often wrong, based on preconceived assumptions — in stride. She’s wearing dangly watermelon earrings.

“Do you know Yixing gege? He’s quite the hotshot in China.” She introduces the gentleman beside him, who is leaning on the couch, quiet confidence of a viper. Apparently he is a music producer, writer, composer, singer, and dancer.

“She flatters me, I just play a little music.” Yixing bows his head, his Korean accented and a little stilted yet musical. His dimpled smile is also incredibly disarming. As they eat, Kyungsoo gets to know Yixing plays an assortment of instruments, and even learned how to do a backflip in 56 hours out of sheer determination and backache as a result.

“It’s wonderful meeting you, Kyungsoo-ssi. I heard this is your birthday celebration?” He leans in to press a quick, light kiss on Kyungsoo’s cheek.

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen in surprise as he considers it, as Yixing immediately backtracks apologising if he’s stepped out of line and that’s how they greet someone in his culture. _You’re not French,_ Kyungsoo thinks, but he is fine as hell. So, he puts his hand on Yixing’s shoulder to stop him from apologising and gives an affirmative nod, getting another brilliant dimpled smile in return. Something about his easy going smiles and musical aptitude felt almost familiar, despite meeting him for the first time.

Soojung observes them all this while, curled up on the couch, quite catlike. She interrupts when it looks like Yixing’s about to say something more when he mentions he’ll be in town for two more weeks. “Don’t even bother with that one, gege. You’d be better off shooting your shot elsewhere.”

Kyungsoo has no idea what any of that means, but he tells Yixing it was nice meeting him as he gets up to collect their empty takeaway boxes and go wash his hands.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” Chanyeol pouts from where Kyungsoo can see his reflection on the mirror as he turns off the tap.

He breaks eye contact to look for a hand towel, and turns to see Chanyeol handing him one from the shower rack above his head.

The impulse to dry his hands on Chanyeol’s fluffy pink hoodie hits for a second before he takes the towel, a silent thanks. “Have I?” He asks. The door is wide open but inside the white tiled bathroom the noise of the party outside dims, unable to permeate in the space between them.

Kyungsoo breaks their gaze. “Maybe you should’ve thrown me a party instead.” He says, walking out as other strangers take their place, closing the door behind them.

“You would’ve hated that.” Chanyeol protests, following, the looming presence behind Kyungsoo is one he is accustomed to.

Unprompted, Chanyeol starts monologuing how he tried to dissuade Sehun from doing this in the first place and when that failed, snitched on Kyungsoo’s favourite chicken place because he’s going to be uncomfortable, he might as well have a good dinner with it. Secrets tumble out of Chanyeol if you poke at him long enough, and Sehun has long, insistent fingers.

“Do you wanna leave? I can fake an emergency, is there a spare water bottle—“

Kyungsoo grabs his arm, which was wildly gesticulating, and he stops. “It’s okay,” He shushes Chanyeol, and also wants him to not feel guilty, “Always nice to see friends.” From across Chanyeol’s shoulder, Kyungsoo’s eyes land on Baekhyun who is looking back at him, an eyebrow raised when his eyeline drops to the arm he’s holding.

Chanyeol’s gaze follows Kyungsoo’s, turning out. Kyungsoo watches as Baekhyun gives a four finger wiggle of a lazy wave, drawing in both their attention from where he’s sitting, arms around Sehun. Chanyeol waves back awkwardly, half a second later, and Baekhyun smiles winningly, turning away.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol are part of the same friend group, namely the one involving Kyungsoo. They’re both similar on the surface, in loud, confident ways and yet they never hang out together unless it’s to play video games when Kyungsoo’s not around. He thinks it’s a classic case of seeing your personality traits reflected in someone else, and immediately not being able to stand it. In that case, he’s proud of them for recognising how annoying they can be.

“Okay, but if at any time you wanna—“ Chanyeol turns his single minded focus back on Kyungsoo, who appreciates it and finds it overbearing.

“I know.” Kyungsoo hasn’t let go of his arm, can feel it flex, the muscles tightening over the loose oversized material. He probably worked out today, Kyungsoo thinks, rubbing circles with his thumb. Chanyeol bows his head down at him, seceding. He’s so loud in his gestures, even when he’s not saying a word, able to drown out every other noise surrounding them. Kyungsoo’s only dimly aware of Baekhyun’s eyes on him.

“Are you having a good time?” He asks, and Chanyeol lifts his head up, nodding excitedly. He tells Kyungsoo about a new party game where you get shocked, he’s a little fuzzy on the details but the entire game really seems to be about getting a painful, mild electric shock. Kyungsoo kind of wants to try it.

“Oh, and Zhang Yixing is here! He’s so cool, Kyungsoo.” He sings praise of his musical prowess and his latest album and his technical productions skills.

“Kisses too.” Kyungsoo adds tongue in cheek to the ever growing list of things the aforementioned man is good at. He’s at that sweet spot, being just tipsy enough, and on a full stomach that he’s enjoying himself, all the harsh overwhelming senses mellowing in a gentle buzz.

“You-Wh-what?” Chanyeol splutters, eyes widening.

“Want me to introduce you?” Kyungsoo asks but doesn’t wait for an answer, leading Chanyeol to where Yixing is. Chanyeol’s plenty outgoing and can talk to just about anyone, except when it’s someone he looks up to and goes uncharacteristically shy. His eyes go shiny when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about, and Kyungsoo likes that. Sparkly eyes.

Barrelling Chanyeol into Yixing who can’t seem to stop complimenting him, Kyungsoo stumbles to sit on the large, soft throw pillows on the floor, just taking everything in for a moment.

Bits of other people’s conversations float in without context.

_“I’m not saying he’s my boyfriend, but he’s not not my boyfriend.”_

_“Who did the graphics on that preso? That was straight up some MS Paint shit.”_

_“My mom’s cutting me off, she said I can’t use her company card anymore — only my allowance.”_

He realises he’s been zoning out when he’s been staring at Jongin the whole time, who seems to be bodyrolling alone. Jongin is sexy, lithe, confident in his skin and anyone in this party would be lucky to have his sole attention focused on them. Kyungsoo, who sees him as a little brother, finds it almost criminal to look anywhere below his eyes, out of respect. Jongin bursts into a grin, sex appeal melting into an adorable little bear, as he takes a seat beside Kyungsoo.

 _“Hyung~”_ Jongin whines drunkenly, his breath warm on Kyungsoo’s neck. “Do you hate me?”

Kyungsoo sits, being held like a Kim Jongin in bear ears and a birthday hat, at their shared birthday party. He thinks of saying yes, just to be mean and twist the knife in. He cooks for them every other week! If anything, Jongin’s the one who opts out to go meet with his friends, which is totally fine, but to be levelled with such unfair accusations?

“No.” Kyungsoo responds honestly.

“Then why didn’t you tell me about your birthday? You’re not even wearing the hat.” Jongin pouts, pointing at the yellow and brown conical hat he’s wearing, with bear ears on the side.

Kyungsoo sighs, not wanting to get into this. “Fine.” He acquiesces, watching Jongin immediately perk up and takes off his hat to reveal another hat underneath. _Had he been wearing two hats this whole time?_

He puts one of them on Kyungsoo, who fixes his glasses and puts the string behind his ears, feeling somewhat ridiculous but comforted that he isn’t in the only one as they sit in matching birthday hats. Jongin’s blinding grin is almost enough.

Jongin’s about to take his phone out and take a picture of them hashtag twinning but a Tag Heuer watch clad hand curls across his sweater, dragging him away. Sehun pulls Jongin to a circle with their peers including Taemin, Seulgi, Wonshik, and Soojung. He watches as the amicable exes and former campus couple avoid each other in the circle, and wonders why their friends with all their interpersonal drama would allow this. It’s cause Sehun is rich, Kyungsoo decides, that he can afford to counteract psychological warfare to fuck with his roommate. Kyungsoo can’t afford to have Jongdae bail on their lease, which is why their relationship is pleasantly acquainted. Sehun would vehemently deny these accusations, scoff and say something along the lines of, “If Jongin didn’t want to see his exes, he shouldn’t have dated people who come to _my_ parties!”

Kyungsoo doesn’t really care, because Sehun had enough sense to not involve him in such juvenile games. Instead the only people he paid attention to here is Chanyeol, who is engrossed with Yixing and —

The karaoke lyrics were playing on TV and standing in front, mic in hand, is Byun Baekhyun. He’s taken off his checkered shirt, tied it around his waist and selected a Dean song. Baekhyun notices Kyungsoo staring because he winks at him.

His mouth falls into an unwitting grin when he recognises the song, Bonnie&Clyde, a song they’ve jammed to before. Baekhyun’s such a natural performer, charismatic even as he exaggerates the high tone and throws his head back, hip cocked. He’s so charming to watch, Kyungsoo’s absolutely transfixed, everyone else forgotten.

To Baekhyun’s credit, he’s also seemingly only performing for Kyungsoo too, he’s fairly sure, because Baekhyun has his body angled away from the TV and singing at Kyungsoo, doesn’t need to look at the illuminated lyrics to stay on beat.

He actually extends a hand to Kyungsoo, taking a step forward, serenading, _“I’ll hold you, even when the world turns it back on you.”_ Kyungsoo takes it, and is pulled from the ground, assuming he’s going to be roped into dueting. Instead, Baekhyun twirls him, Kyungsoo choking on a laugh as he plays along.

 _“You can lean on me.”_ Baekhyun croons, his gaze pinning Kyungsoo in his place, no longer playful but sultry. He deliberately pauses, and Kyungsoo’s unable to look away, the distance between them both palpable and untouchable. The next line passes on the screen, unsung.

_“We are no more than friends, I know I know.”_

Kyungsoo tears away and Baekhyun immediately jumps back into the song, away from Kyungsoo towards the screen, belting into the chorus. The whiplash of it stings, leaving Kyungsoo with his heart thudding and hot behind the ears.

Nobody else found anything to be amiss, humming in their own social circles, except the usual suspect Kyungsoo’s not about to deal with. He heads towards the door to get away from fluorescent colorful lights and familiar songs, and get some air.

Sehun seems to have left his little circle, bidding farewell to guests. Someone with bright orange hair hugs him, tells him what a great time they had and how they should do it again soon. Sehun walks them to the elevator, image of a perfect gentleman, grimacing when he returns.

“They called me a spoiled little bitch on their private SNS,” Sehun rolls his eyes and makes a face, clinging onto Kyungsoo’s shoulders. That’s surprising, he thought the two of them were close with the displays of affection just now. “Don’t have many reservations having a spoiled little bitch’s booze though.”

“Why would you invite them then?” Kyungsoo asks, curious. He can’t imagine actively being around people he doesn’t like, during his free time.

Sehun pauses, before gently guiding Kyungsoo inside. “Cause we’re all fuckin’ lonely, hyung. I’d rather be alone in a room full of people.” He offers a half smile. Sometimes, with all his bravado and diablerie, it’s easy to forget just how young Sehun is, truly a younger brother. Whether it’s throwing a party for him, or begging Kyungsoo to make him stir fried rice, he really has such an inextricable affection for Sehun who calls for him and needs him unabashedly. It’s how he feels protective, lets Sehun hold on to him despite his towering height.

Words come clumsily to him, so instead he squeezes Sehun’s hand, hopes the _‘I understand you’_ translates. It might, because Sehun’s more cheerful as they’re back in the living, shoulders subconsciously bobbing to the beat of a pop song someone’s absolutely buterching on mic. Sehun lets him go, goes back to mingling, and Kyungsoo finds himself back from where he tried to leave — like a video game glitch when it returns you back when you try to explore beyond what is coded. He takes a moment to be alone in a room full of people, but he isn’t. Not really.

A few things happen concurrently. Jongin yelps as someone chants ‘birthday punch, birthday punch’ and presumably hits him. A large unassuming pink box Kyungsoo noticed in the fridge when he was bringing out the Colas is now on the kitchen counter, plastic knife taped atop. Chanyeol hesitates when the group he is talking to asks if he’s going to join them for a smoke, the kind they refer to falls on the other side of the law, but can easily skirt the charges being financially predisposed enough. Baekhyun’s leaning against a wall, like they were at the beginning of the night, eyes stalking Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo acts more on autopilot, a part of him connecting the dots before he can put it into coherent thoughts. Beelining directly to Chanyeol, he yanks his arm pulling him out of the crowd, Chanyeol exclaiming in surprise before following easily. Baekhyun’s eyes aren’t on him anymore, following someone behind him entering the kitchen.

“Distract them please. Balcony. Find us.” Kyungsoo hisses as soon as Baekhyun’s in earshot, who nods in affirmative as if he’s been in on the plan Kyungsoo thought of 30 seconds ago, and heads on. He doesn’t question the instinct that implored to ask Baekhyun to find him, how important it is that he does because Baekhyun’s here alone and there’s no one else he really knows, which means he must have been here _for him,_ Kyungsoo who’s been running away all night.

Kyungsoo slides the glass door of the balcony, slipping inside, and Chanyeol pulls the navy blue curtain, obscuring them from the inside. He pants for a second, more from the adrenaline rush alongside the alcohol in his system, like he’s done something reckless — they’ve done something reckless.

Chanyeol’s eyes flicker from Kyungsoo’s to the curtain drawn glass as a chorus of the happy birthday song starts. For one tense moment, they look at each other as drunken, off tune song continues to _‘dear Xia’,_ which is when they both burst into giggles. He’s not quite sure what’s so funny, but it feels good to laugh.

“Happy birthday, Kyungsoo-ya.” Chanyeol’s voice is deeper, quieter when they finally stop guffawing. They didn’t turn on the light inside, wary of drawing too much attention, but there’s a full moon outside and Seoul’s light pollution stops it from ever being truly dark, even the lights from neighbouring apartments and transport below twinkle. As Kyungsoo’s eyes adjust, Chanyeol’s still looking at him; open, sincere, a small smile tugging at his lips. He’s standing very close, Kyungsoo notes absently, can feel his body warmth emanating.

It feels right. Chanyeol’s been the first one to wish him for years now, kind of as a self challenge. This time Kyungsoo decided to help, sneaking them both off to a tiny balcony when the clock struck twelve, since it would be a shame to break his streak now. Especially by an inebriated college student who’d slur a passing, “Happy Birthday, Kwangsoo-ssi.”

Chanyeol plays with the ears on Kyungsoo’s party hat, straightening where it fell on the side, crooked.. “I know why you— I wouldn’t have— my self control—“ Chanyeol stumbles, hiccuping. Sometimes it hurts Kyungsoo how Chanyeol can talk about any topic in the world, create music out of thin air, but choke on something simple. Still, he bears it, says it out loud. Unlike Kyungsoo.

“Shh.” He reaches out at Chanyeol’s face in the dark, desperately trying to shut him up.

“Thank you.” His brave, sweet idiot.

Kyungsoo’s body rejects the thanks, shrugging immediately, “It’s nothing.” The wall behind him is solid, the floor beneath him is solid and he clings to them, sluggishly sliding down to sit. One of the better side effects of alcohol is how comfortable it makes rock solid floors feel. Marble solid. Sehun is so rich. Jongin too. He wouldn’t be surprised if these hats are Gucci. His and Jongdae’s unit don’t have a balcony, or this view.

Chanyeol sits down beside him too, fiddling with the lighter in his pocket. An old habit. Kyungsoo’s about to reach out for his hand when the door slides, startling them both.

“The spoils of war!” Baekhyun cheers jovially, closing the glass door behind them. In his hands, the decorative plate that the cake originally came in and a mangled mess of frosting and cake. He takes a seat on the other side of Kyungsoo, putting the plate on him, the effective middle.

“Have—have they never cut a cake before?!” Kyungsoo wonders, genuinely distraught. Baekhyun neglects to mention his role in how this happened.

Chanyeol, indiscriminate, grabs a piece with his hand while Baekhyun hands him the frosting covered plastic knife and a pair of chopsticks, shrugging how you have to make do during a battle.

It’s good cake though. Rich, filling, the frosting not too sweet or overwhelming. Kyungsoo’s sure it was beautiful before it was smacked right into Jongin’s face probably. Despite Kyungsoo being the centre, and the one holding the cake, his two companions make steady work on attacking from the sides until he’s outflanked, giving up his claim. Kyungsoo’s just glad Junmyeon didn’t offer to bake this time. You can only survive a poisoning attempt so many times.

Kyungsoo notices Baekhyun shiver, the flannel shirt no longer at his waist but providing little comfort. He’d barely noticed the chill himself, being bundled up and alcohol warming his veins, but undoubtedly the small tiled veranda space is colder than the heated rush of the party inside. Which, by the sounds of, was still going strong. He moves towards Baekhyun, extending an arm against his shoulder and squeezing it. With his free other hand, he tugs Chanyeol to move closer so the three of them can share. Induction theory? Thermodynamics?

Neither of the two objects, Baekhyun immediately sliding his hand behind Kyungsoo’s waist, and Kyungsoo leans until half his body is supported on Chanyeol’s chest, resting his other hand on Chanyeol’s thigh to keep it from bouncing restlessly. They sit in relative silence, the distant sounds of Seoul traffic and the people inside muted, watching the twinkling lights of the city and the flames of the lighter Chanyeol keeps flicking on and off with his free hand. It’s rather cozy, and Kyungsoo realises he can fall asleep like this.

“So… I’m half 50.” He acknowledges, finally. It comes out as a sigh, the admission.

“Good. Join us. Like you better when we’re same aged.” With each sentence punctuated, Baekhyun moves in closer until he can rest his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Technically they’re both a few months older than him, but it’s always been equal footing. A much younger Chanyeol had asked him for his birthday for the first time, done the math in his head before bursting into a blinding grin and the most hopeful, _“That makes us friends?”_

“My cousin’s high school called. Said he was in trouble and I was the emergency contact he gave.” Kyungsoo’s been ruminating over this incident since it happened two days ago.

“Jiwoo?” Chanyeol guesses, Kyungsoo nods. “Ah, Jesus auntie.”

Baekhyun doesn’t know the context but looks at Kyungsoo, probing him to continue.

“I had a half day anyway, so I showed up. Poor kid was freaking out. Pulls me aside and tells me they caught him and a few classmates vaping on school property, and they threatened to cancel their exams. Putting it on their academic record.” Kyungsoo’s aware how Chanyeol has stilled, no longer playing with his lighter.

“I was mostly concerned with calming him down. You know when you’re a kid and exams feel like the most important thing in the world? Yeah, he was begging me to not go to uncle and aunty about this. They’d kill him.” Not even for the act itself, but what perceived ‘shame’ it brings to the family, Kyungsoo knew very well.

“Hypocrites.” Chanyeol mutters under his breath and Kyungsoo squeezes the thigh he has his hand on. Kyungsoo’s uncle was no stranger to smoking a pack or ten during family gatherings, even offering his nephew and friend when they had seen him with Mrs. Choi.

“What happened then?” Baekhyun asks, his hand on the small of Kyungsoo’s back rubbing reassuring circles.

“They called the guardians of all the kids. Took us to a meeting room, like a parent teacher conference. It was strange. Then one of the kid’s moms showed up, she is a donor to the school. 5 minutes later, all of them are off scot free. No permanent record or suspension, just some after school behavioural correction classes. They wouldn’t even call it detention. Really taught them a lesson.” Kyungsoo scoffs.

Baekhyun laughs mirthlessly. “Ya, turns out he learnt the most valuable lesson of all: be friends with the richest kid.”

“It didn’t sit right with me. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it won’t affect his permanent record or anything. But he did so something incredibly stupid. I walked him home, and I told him that. That things could’ve easily been a lot worse, he’s old enough to know better and I won’t be around every time to save his ass. Then I thanked him for trusting me, and that his hyung’s always going to be in his corner.” Kyungsoo recalls Jiwoo’s astonished face, like he didn’t think Kyungsoo would be on his side.

“And if he’s going to vape, to not get caught at least,” Kyungsoo laughs disbelievingly, taking his hands off Baekhyun’s shoulder and Chanyeol’s thigh to bury his face in his hands. “It’s surreal. The whole time I was in that room, I thought I was the one in trouble. I’m the adult here. _I’m_ supposed to know what to do. Was I too soft?” He truly felt out of his depth, and the whole event stayed at the back of his mind, like he had somehow not done enough to stray Jiwoo from the dangers of vape juice pods, or led him to believe he can get off easy.

Baekhyun pries his hands off his face, his hands settling atop Kyungsoo’s on his lap. “Hey. You did enough. Like you said, he’s old enough to know better. You still showed up and was there for him. Of course, every kid stops doing shit once they’re yelled at by an adult. That’s why I never touched maekju til my 19th birthday.” He ends with a cheeky grin, squeezing Kyungsoo’s hands in reassurance. This is the Baekhyun he likes the most, stripped beyond his flirtatiousness and pushing buttons, where he’s empathetic and someone Kyungsoo can count on, share his concerns with and know he will be met with no judgment. He can also make Kyungsoo laugh.

He’s acutely aware of Chanyeol the whole time, but he still would’ve missed it if he wasn’t waiting — the strained, quiet, “It’s more than what we had. It’s what I wish w-we had.” His voice cracks, and Kyungsoo’s heart breaks thinking how different things could’ve been if only they had one reasonable adult who’d listen back then. He can’t bear turning around and watching the moonlight reflect on Chanyeol’s watery eyes, instead he shifts more of his body weight against Chanyeol’s side and wiggles one of his hands out of Baekhyun’s hold, lets it fall to the space where Chanyeol’s left hand is. Comfort, if he seeks it. Chanyeol’s always been far better at accepting help than him, feels him cup his hand first, tight, before slowly sliding his fingers between the crook of Kyungsoo’s. His hand is bigger than Kyungsoo’s, practically envelopes his, but it fits just right.

Baekhyun stares at them curiously. He doesn’t ask, instead waits half a beat before going, “Yah! Chanyeol-ah! The kids are _vaping_ now. We have no street credit anymore.” The mood shifts, lightens, allows an out from darker topics. He appreciates Baekhyun for this, he appreciates Baekhyun for a lot things.

Kyungsoo snorts. “Like either of you had street cred to begin with.”

“I resent that.” Chanyeol retorts. They all ignore the small crack in his voice, falling into an easy, teasing back and forth and then a comfortable silence. Juxtaposed with the noise coming from the inside, their silence lingers.

The last time Kyungsoo had a surprise birthday party thrown for him, during the unruly ages of adolescence, Seungsoo had thrown cake at his face and they spent half the night in a screaming match. Their dad had kicked them out for the night, told them if they were going to behave like dogs, they could sleep outside with them too. The winters in Ilsan used to be harsher then, freezing, biting, bruising.

“What are we doing?” Kyungsoo finally asks. He looks down at where his leg rests against Chanyeol’s, and Baekhyun’s knee is propped up, bare skin from where the holes of his ripped jeans stretched. He had taken Kyungsoo’s hand and rested it on his knee, the latter assuming it was for warmth but Baekhyun’s hand was placed atop his, sliding Kyungsoo’s fingers under the knee hole of his jeans, tearing the threads at the seams further.

“We’re ignoring everyone at the party by sneaking away here.” Chanyeol responds, helpfully. Kyungsoo frowns at how antisocial that makes it out to be, even if technically true. By their sides, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s fingers are still interlocked together, hidden from sight in the relative darkness and the loose material of Chanyeol’s hoodie.

“We’re vibing,” Baekhyun offers, unhelpfully. Kyungsoo has no plans of moving his hand, moving at all really, Baekhyun’s head resting at the crook of his neck while he maneuvers their hands on his exposed knee. “Cuddling, even.”

“No, what are we doing _here?”_ Kyungsoo tries to voice what he’s trying to say. “In life?”

Baekhyun groans, tugging playfully at his fingers. Chanyeol pokes Kyungsoo’s cheek with his right hand, the one that’s not holding him, a gesture he does when he thinks Kyungsoo’s being cute. Or clueless. “Have you been talking to Junmyeon hyung? He only gives life advice so he can pretend he has control over his.” Chanyeol’s still bitter from that one time Junmyeon implied he’s a cheapskate for treating them with street food, like ttkeokbokki isn’t a _classic!_ Chanyeol’s rehashed this argument many times.

“No…” Kyungsoo battles on in his quest to form words that mean sentences, he turns to Chanyeol, “You love your job.” Chanyeol nods. It’s the same as saying he breathes, a fact of life. Music has saved his life in ways more than what a cliched recording artist would say in an award speech. Chanyeol’s understanding of the world is his beats, notes, lyrics he makes Kyungsoo sing.

“And you… hate yours.” He states at Baekhyun.

“Loathe.” Baekhyun grins, the pad of his thumb playing over the top of Kyungsoo’s hand. Kyungsoo’s not even sure what Baekhyun does, except that it sucks, his boss sucks, his coworkers suck, and the pay is too good to leave. When one gets to know Baekhyun, it’s so easy to get suckered in by how charming, funny, at ease he can make anyone feel, they’re too enamoured by his winning smiles to even remember to ask what he does. It’s such a breath of fresh air, compared to all of Kyungsoo’s peers whose names may as well be their job positions, their entire identities based on how high up the corporate ladder they can climb.

“I don’t hate my job.” Kyungsoo says in a small voice, lost in his thoughts of Editor Insung’s kind smile and invaluable advice, how grateful he is to everyone there and how they treat him like a younger brother, allowing him to grow and learn. He likes his job, but he also doesn’t see himself working at a small publishing company forever. It’s a safe, stable job with a security net. He doesn’t even _know_ what other industry he would join, especially in a saturated market of overqualified young professionals. Sometimes, when he lets himself think about it, he feels incredibly directionless with nothing tethering him to one true purpose, like all the adults in his life had predicted. He’s fine, it’s just sometimes he wishes there was something more than this, this life of barely scraping by, doing everything to get ahead by an inch, indulge in small pleasures of life, and tell your friends the only comforting words of, “you’ve worked hard,” like that’s all there is; give, give, give.

“Is that all there is to it? I find something that isn’t completely soul crushing…” Kyungsoo muses out loud, “And spend the rest of my unremarkable 20’s like that? Aimlessly?”

He’s not particularly opposed to that. Kyungsoo’s sure he’s not one of those people destined to live remarkable lives. He’d be quite shit at it. If everyone’s the protagonist of life, he’s more comfortable being a side character. The reason Kyungsoo’s so opposed to birthday parties is that he tends to get all existential and reflective of his own mortality, so he usually spends it alone with his favourite takeout, a movie to watch, and his phone on silent after Chanyeol’s first call/text.

“That’s not true. Your unit called you a cooking fairy, you learned tap dancing in a month, you deal with Sehun and Jongin everyday, god knows how.” Baekhyun launches, misinterpreting Kyungsoo’s fair self evaluation as self deprecation. “You’re disciplined and hardworking and good. You’re _so_ good, Do Kyungja.”

Kyungsoo’s ears burn, half glad both his arms are occupied so he didn’t have to flail them around, half wishing they were free so he could bury himself. He shakes his head, jerkily, as if trying to get those words physically slide off him instead of curling around his chest, blossoming warmth. _‘That was a unit effort. Tap dancing isn’t that hard, the teacher did most of the work. Jongin and Sehun are easy to deal with, there’s a bunch of puppy training videos online.’_ are what he would’ve said if he could speak right now.

“Back me up here, Chanyeol.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t dare turn his head, can see Chanyeol nodding in his peripheral view. Feels him straighten up, lean closer to Kyungsoo, his voice light. “Don’t make me agree with Baekhyun, he thinks Princess Peach is the best character when it’s obviously Donkey Kong.” Kyungsoo gets the roaring thud in his ears under control. Chanyeol lets go of their clasped hands, slides his fingers out, no longer touching.

This makes Kyungsoo turn to him, expecting a mischievous smile. Instead, his face is solemn and handsome. “You’re the most remarkable person I know.” He says in half a whisper, a secret, a confession.

 _Traitor,_ Kyungsoo thinks wildly at his heart.

Out loud, he groans and buries his head on Chanyeol’s chest, using his newly freed hand to hit at Chanyeol’s arm. “Shut up. Both of you.”

Baekhyun nudges his propped knee over Kyungsoo’s leg, entangling them further. “Can’t help it, I am a Peach man myself.” He says conversationally. He uses Kyungsoo’s hand to slap his own thigh.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun fall into a lively conversation about Super Mario and gaming, letting Kyungsoo recuperate and save face. He thinks his cheeks are going to be permanently tinged pink. They carry on the conversation without him, but that isn’t to say he’s ignored. Kyungsoo keeps his head down at Baekhyun’s elegant long fingers splayed over his hand, though it’s misleading to claim Baekhyun’s been puppeteering him the whole time. Kyungsoo moved his hand away from the ripped gaps, edging it on his jean clad thigh. He noticed Baekhyun’s voice had the slightest hitch when he ran his nails over the material, thinking that would deter him. If anything, it spurs him to guide, encourage even, Kyungsoo’s hand further up his thigh. Kyungsoo respects that level of shamelessness.

On the literal other hand, Chanyeol had laughed at something and as usual his arms flailed, finding purchase on Kyungsoo’s back, from where he casually slung it across his shoulder and then… he did nothing. The weight of his arm on Kyungsoo’s shoulder grounds him to the spot, rendering him still. The pink of his hair matches the pink of his hoodie, but beyond the non threatening appearance, he knows the quiet power those arms possess, has been held in its grip.

Earlier, inside the party, two guys got into a drunken brawl over the presents. It almost happened in slow motion, one of them grabbing for the gift in the other’s hand, the spilling of the drink, a fist reaching for the other’s face. Kyungsoo was standing beside Chanyeol, and Baekhyun had been on the couch with Sehun watching him and the debacle beyond them unfold with an interested eye, half a smile. Chanyeol broke away from beside Kyungsoo and deftly situated himself between the sworn enemies, with a _“hey, hey, hey stop”,_ his arms easily keeping two grown men apart. Kyungsoo hadn’t moved a muscle because it’s none of his business, and he saw Baekhyun staring at him likewise — like they had passed a secret between them. Then Baekhyun whispered something in Sehun’s ear, who got up from his seat and straightened his blazer looking very much like the owner of a bar kicking out rowdy customers, mentioning something about cutting off the tap.

Baekhyun’s flaming red hair looks almost brunette in this darkness. He shoots a lecherous grin when Kyungsoo finally looks up, an over-the-top eye wiggle. Kyungsoo laughs, and emboldened by that Baekhyun leans in a conspiratorial drawl, “Are you trying to get in my pants?” He asks, squeezing Kyungsoo’s hand which has travelled quite a bit north from the initial knee rip of his jeans, “Cause it’s working.”

Before he can respond, Chanyeol straightens up inadvertently or rather very advertently pushing Kyungsoo further into his lap, his arm on his shoulder no longer hanging loose but holding onto him. Kyungsoo doesn’t hear Baekhyun’s quiet _‘or maybe not’,_ holding his free hand on Chanyeol’s hip to balance himself, turning his head and inadvertently realizing how easily he could twist himself, push Chanyeol down completely to the floor and slide a knee between his legs. His hands would be hot on Kyungsoo’s waist, could so easily push him around but won’t. Baekhyun’s clever, nimble fingers would be working its way behind him, finding the skin under his many layers, unraveling him, whispering directions and sweet nothings in his ear. These thoughts aren’t helped with how Chanyeol’s staring at him, aren’t helped by how Kyungsoo’s at the perfect angle on his lap to kiss the underside of his jaw, aren’t helped knowing he’d probably let him, they both would. Would they both at the same time? That would be interesting.

The three of them make quite a striking image, even in this darkness, entangled legs and the red of Baekhyun on the de règle black hair, straight posture of Kyungsoo’s shoulders against the conspicuous pink hoodie of the broad chest Chanyeol endowns. It’s dangerous, knowing they would, if he asked. It’s also so, so inconvenient. They’re on someone else's balcony, for one, before Kyungsoo can run on desire alone and start planning out logistics. He’s not a reckless teen anymore. Kyungsoo’s also not in the habit of chasing what he wants, barr the consequences. Fuck, he _has_ grown up. He’s never going to let Sehun mix his alcohols again.

“Are you staying over then?” He asks Chanyeol, who hums in response. His studio is two blocks away. They know about his current roommate predicament, though if Jongdae is still going at it at this hour Kyungsoo’s just going to be seriously impressed. And a little concerned. Just how backed up was he?

“Do you have work tomorrow?” He turns to Baekhyun, who is eyeing Chanyeol’s hand which is splayed across Kyungsoo’s waist, from when he had straightened up. Baekhyun grins, and Kyungsoo’s sure he’s forgetting something obvious, like it’s probably the weekend tomorrow. Today. Still, Baekhyun could have a job that has weekend duty too, like a circus. “Nope, and even if I did, I simply wouldn’t go.”

“It’s getting pretty late, Baekhyun-ah. I could call you a car, I’ve got an area discount cause I’m here all the time.” Bragging never sounds out of place from Chanyeol’s mouth, but is he trying to make his voice deeper? And he got that discount because his own studio is two blocks away.

“Thank you, Chanyeollie. I really appreciate it, but if you think it’s getting late Kyungsoo and I would be more than happy to get out of your hair.” Baekhyun sounds sweet, which means you can’t trust him.

Ah, they’re doing this peacocking show again. Usually, in their heads, it’s for Kyungsoo’s benefit but it almost immediately spirals into personal petty grievances. He’s not even sure if it’s supposed to impress him? He typically zones out and lets them hash it out, it’s something they do to each other — pithy back and forths, outrageous assumptions, the whole dance before they realise Kyungsoo’s walked off.

“Pfft, late. I’m usually up till 5 on Battlefield, so this is nothing.”

“I know, I’m usually playing against you. Would you like some pointers on your headshot accuracy?”

“Oh, fuck y— _I’m_ just saying _Kyungsoo_ might like some peace and quiet now, since that’s how we usually spend his birthdays.”

“So _you’re_ leaving then? Shame, good thing you’ve got that discount though!”

“No, however it is rude when _guests_ don’t know when to leave and—“

They progressed into loud hand waving on Chanyeol’s part and just a distinct singular finger wagging from Baekhyun, meaning Kyungsoo is free from their grasp and in three swift motions, gets up. Both blindsided by the sudden movement, which Kyungsoo thanks his thorough Pilates classes for, shut up and stare at Kyungsoo, who is only a little lightheaded from the sudden movement.

“My butt is frozen.” He realizes, giving it two light pats, ignores that their eyes have unwittingly followed, as is the desired effect. “I’m heading back inside.” With that, he watches the pair scramble to their feet to follow in pursuit.

Walking back in, he blinks a couple of times to adjust to the dim party lights. The room is toasty warm but considerably empty, with only someone passed out on the couch. The aftermath of a party, with streamers still on the floor (perhaps Moonkyu is a genius) now joined with wrapping paper and balloons, boxes of pizza and cups stacked neatly at one corner, empty bottles on the countertop. Someone had toppled over the giant popcorn container, so now the floor is crunchy as well as… sticky somehow. It was quiet though, with the music turned off and the only discernible noise coming from Jongin’s room.

Kyungsoo makes a beeline to the refrigerator, whispering, “success!” when he finds it, his leftovers of the kimchi spaghetti pasta. As he heats it up, still feeling the chills of a January night, he does an old exercise routine drilled into him from his rigorous army days.

“Cheer up, baby. Cheer up, baby.” He recites, bring his closed fists to his cheeks to really emulate the _shy shy shy._

“A-are you _dancing?”_ Chanyeol’s voice breaks. He sounds like he’s in pain. Baekhyun’s mouth opens a bit, and does not close.

Now how will Kyungsoo explain to these two public service idiots that in the long, cold months of active duty without being able to go home at the end of the day, or even have access to your cellphone before 6PM, the only form of entertainment is you and your comrades perfectly learning the choreo to Twice’s Cheer Up, and become very harsh critics if you miss a step or are offbeat. For camaredie’s sake, of course.

The microwave beeps, saving him from having to explain. Instead, he points Chanyeol to the large pile of pillows at the center of the room across the television and sofa. “Clean.” A simple command. He puts three forks in the bowl of spaghetti and hands it to Baekhyun, who for some reason grabs it from the bottom and yelps at the heat. “Sit.”

Kyungsoo himself goes to Sehun’s room, who opens at the first knock dressed in ugly silk pajamas, which meant they were exorbitantly expensive. He pulls Kyungsoo inside.

“Where is everybody?” He asks slowly.

“I got too drunk and remembered I don’t like any of them.” Sehun mumbles into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck, while his dog Vivi nips at his fingers. Kyungsoo pets both the pups for a minute. “So I kicked them out. Something about building curfew.”

Sehun peeked outside, where Chanyeol was violently hitting two large pillows against one another, and Baekhyun discreetly ate the spaghetti. “Hm, Both? That’s an interesting choice, hyung.”

“Huh?” Kyungsoo has no idea what he’s referring to. “Spare blankets?” He asks instead.

“Gotcha.” Sehun aims a wink at Kyungsoo, but he closes both his eyes and it looks like an exaggerated blink. “Granted, Jongin needed a few extra too. His friends are on ‘Don’t Let Him Fall Into A New Relationship’ watch. Or was it ‘Don’t Let Him Fuck An Ex’ watch? Either ways.” Sehun shrugs, bringing out one large King size comforter.

Kyungsoo doesn’t comment that the second watch would be moot considering Taemin is there. He’s immediately dwarfed by the weight of the blanket.

“Hyung…” Sehun starts hesitantly, “If you wanna go back to your flat, or want me to kick those two out. I will.” He finishes resolutely, chest puffed. And Kyungsoo knows he would. It makes him easy to love.

“It’s okay.” He assures him, pressing a flat palm on his cheek.

Sehun nods, walking him out to turn up the living room heat. “Look at this mess,” he wrinkles his nose with a sweeping nod. “God, I have to call the cleaners, at like dawn. Ugh.” He can be hard to love too.

“Help yourselves to whatever, but if you need anything — don’t come knocking. Vivi and I have our nightly positive affirmations to listen to, and we’ll keep our headphones on.” He wiggles his brows at Kyungsoo before heading back to his room in a flourish. “Night, night, hyungs.”

“Does he have headphones _for dogs?”_

“Why are there _condoms_ on the counter?”

Chanyeol, done with beating up the pillows, heads to the bathroom as Kyungsoo and Baekhyun finish up the spaghetti. Baekhyun’s a lightweight, Kyungsoo knows, and it’s good the both of them fill up on carbs now rather than risk throwing up on expensive floors. He knows he’s still tipsy when on the last bite he thinks how great this would taste paired with a white wine. He knows Baekhyun’s still tipsy too, because he actually sat and ate his food instead of trying to Lady and the Tramp Kyungsoo with a spaghetti noodle. Still, watching him scarf down the leftovers like a squirrel trying to store nuts in its mouth for the long winter brings joy to Kyungsoo, as a cook.

“Phew, if you’re gonna take a piss — there’s someone asleep in the bathtub. So keep the shower curtains closed, for good manners.” Chanyeol informs upon returning, grinning.

Baekhyun thanks him for the info, before heading to Sehun’s bathroom, avoiding the guest one altogether.

Chanyeol’s smile is still blinding — Kyungsoo realizes that he's been staring — even after all these years. He’s sober as day, still full of energy, god only knows where he keeps all of that, and Kyungsoo’s really proud of him. He doesn’t say it, doesn’t need to. It’s an everyday thing for him by now, which means Kyungsoo’s proud of him every day but he doesn’t need to patronize him. He knows Chanyeol knows, and that’s enough. He’s spent so many birthdays with Chanyeol, he’s almost grown into those ears of his. Chanyeol laughs at something on his phone, and shows it to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo doesn’t get it, but listens to Chanyeol’s explanation of how the boyfriend is distracted by the woman in red and ignoring his girlfriend in blue. He can always rely on Chanyeol’s infinite patience and knowledge to teach him about internet trends he does not care about. He listens anyway.

Baekhyun comes back fresh faced, having washed his makeup off and taken his choker off, hair sticking up in all directions. “I don’t remember the last time I had a sleepover,” He plops down on the makeshift mattress bed beside Kyungsoo, acknowledging their unspoken but naturally led impromptu slumber party, “Well, I do, but it didn’t involve much sleeping.” He makes a distinctly box shaped mouth when he smiles like that, like an anime character. Kyungsoo pokes at his cheek.

“Kyungsoo and I have sleepovers all the time.” Chanyeol points out, at the age some cultures regard a grown man with a fully developed prefrontal lobe.

Whatever clever, pithy retort Baekhyun has is interrupted with a yawn, and it makes Kyungsoo yawn in suit. “Sleep.” He tells Baekhyun, pushing his shoulder so they’re both lying down, who falls quite pliantly. Chanyeol’s sitting upright, wide awake, with his phone plugged into the power bank he carries. He waves them off saying he’s not tired and needs to check a few emails. Kyungsoo considers staying up, but the events of the day and the alcohol and full stomach do nothing to quell his drowsiness, coupled with the fact how comfortable Baekhyun looks wrapped up to his neck in a blanket burrito. Kyungsoo is willing to give up all notoriety of youth, he is older today and wants to sleep.

As Kyungsoo drifts off, with thoughts of what to make for tomorrow and checking his morning emails because Editor Insung always leaves something to look forward to, it dawns on him. He’s spent so much of his life, almost passively watching it pass him by or in mundane, simple days and then looking back he saw that those were the times he was happy. The boring days of skinning his knee trying to ride Seungsoo’s bike, aimlessly skipping classes when Chanyeol had Physics, earning his first measly paycheck from a shitty part time job, all these moments he only fully appreciates once they are completely out of his grasp, and he can never go back. But right now, despite all the ways he might be terribly lacking, he is at a birthday celebration thrown for him by friends who care about him. He’s beside two people he has very heartfelt emotions towards. Whether it is a combination of the right amount of tipsy, being warm, and feeling cherished… At this moment, he is content. No matter how fleeting this moment is, or how he recalls it later without the lens of alcohol, he’s okay. It’s okay for something beautiful to only last a moment. It’s a beautiful moment.

Right as he falls asleep, he feels more than hear Chanyeol whisper, _”Happy Birthday.”_

* * *

Kyungsoo wakes up disoriented, blinking in the unfamiliar surroundings as the events of last night slowly filter in, through the same hazy fog coating Seoul in the early hours of the morning. Right. The weight of an arm across him over the covers is a familiar one, as Chanyeol reaches out even in his sleep. They didn’t fall asleep like this, but at some point in the night Baekhyun and Kyungsoo both turned to their sides, facing each other. Not touching, but close enough that Kyungsoo can count all the moles on his face, even without his glasses. It's a strange thought, but he indulges in it, that he doesn't mind waking up like this. He stays still for a while, too warm and comfortable to move and ignoring the dull throb of the beginnings of hangover at his temples, but too soon his bladder discomfits all else and Kyungsoo precariously moves Chanyeol’s arm, careful not to wake them, gets up to go the bathroom.

Everyone is still asleep, it seems like. From Vivi to Jongin’s posse given the silence of his room to whoever is passed out on the couch. It’s eerily quiet, not even birds from this high up. Kyungsoo pauses on his way back from the bathroom, the water splashed on his face making him feel awake enough to appreciate the view Sehun and Jongin’s penthouse can afford. Sometimes, the sun was barely visible from Kyungsoo’s unit, not the whole city splayed out like this and the hills further away only just visible beyond the light pollution.

He contemplates going back to the spot between Baekhyun and Chanyeol, he could definitely use a few extra hours of shut eye. But instead he watches as Chanyeol shifts, the arm previously holding Kyungsoo reaches out for a warm body, moving closer… closer… until finally having someone tucked securely within its embrace, but definitely not the same companion as before. Kyungsoo will have Sehun send him a picture of this, if both of their collective screaming doesn’t reach him through several floors first.

With his mind made up, Kyungsoo picks his glasses, jacket and shoes — it’s been a while since he last left someone else’s apartment in the previous night’s clothes. His own warm, toasty bed downstairs beckons to him, and there’s a very good chance an apologetic roommate may greet him with muffins in the _morning_ morning. There’s no reason compelling enough to sleep on a floor when his spacious bed awaits.

 _It’s some incredibly nineteen year old horseshit to think a party is gonna change your life,_ Kyungsoo notes, leaving Sehun’s apartment and waiting on the elevator to take him back to his and Jongdae’s little unit. As for the people he cares about and likes to be around, they have tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that; like the stars, he stays where he is, steadfast and dependable. But today? Today is his birthday, and Kyungsoo _hates_ birthday parties.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY XIA!!!!!!! if u notice they’re singing hbd to u when chansoo r giggling in the balcony!!!! That’s why they’re laughing.
> 
> the wonderful amazing brilliant adjectives I’ll run out of if I continue @riendrope made this wonderful fanart for this fic, which is basically how the fic came to me (as a fan art concept) please check out their beautiful art!!!
>
>> Sehun peeked outside. “Hm, Both? That’s an interesting choice, hyung."  
>    
>  ✨ fic art for <https://t.co/MEkFehk3Hn> ✨  
>    
>  (cw for mild nsfr) [pic.twitter.com/7wps6rFyIl](https://t.co/7wps6rFyIl)
>> 
>> — ✨ rie ✨ (@riendrope) [April 27, 2020](https://twitter.com/riendrope/status/1254818504194154497?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed reading, please let me know if you did!


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